


Dying to See You

by MathiasHyde



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathiasHyde/pseuds/MathiasHyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanada comes across a sword that can take the form of a human</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying to See You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fulminata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulminata/gifts).



> Originally written in 2012

The last memory Yukimura had before he felt his consciousness slip into darkness, was the feeling of his owner's life force dimming into nothingness and the strange, disconnected feeling as their connection was severed. Then, there was the blurred image of the person who next picked him up and the feeling of the calloused, warm hands before he stopped being aware.

Yukimura was an enchanted sword, made from the life forces of numerous humans with the ability to gift anyone that wielded him with greater power and the peerless sword-fighting skills of a sword master. In his memories, he had the faces of the many different owners he'd had throughout the years; the numerous men that came across him, their faces and names blurring together from the long years and some being forgotten.

But this new man...

–

When he next came into awareness of the world, it was with the realisation that he was still in his scabbard. He was vaguely aware of being across the man's back and Yukimura wondered how long it had been. No matter what state he was in, when the sword was drawn, he was awoken and immediately aware and ready to fight. This man... hadn't used him at all since picking him up.

Did the man realise what sword he had picked up, Yukimura wondered. He knew, from the loud boastings of previous owners that his existence was very well known and that many people wanted ownership of him. After all, who didn't desire the ability to best others without any training or effort? That thought made him bitter and he laughed silently to himself.

He spent the next few days observing, remaining in silence. He could talk while in his sword form, but he chose not to. The man travelled alone through the country and made no real interactions with others. There was no fighting, no boasting of his skills that invited attack like some of his previous owners had done; too confident in the idea that Yukimura would gift them with skills. He barely saw other people passing by; there was just long silences and never-ending travelling.

Yukimura gleaned very little from this and it was frustrating. He gathered his owner was happier in his own company, but little else. His previous owner, despite his bad attitude and hot-headedness, hadn't been unskilled, even without Yukimura's input. He remembered, for some reason, he'd chosen not to give his previous owner skills for that one fight, but even so, to have defeated him, this man must have been somewhat decent with the sword. But besides that, therew as nothing.

It was the long silences and the desire to learn _something_ that finally drove Yukimura to reveal himself.

He changed into his human form one night. The human form had only appeared after many owners, many people killed and many life forces drained away into him. But he could count on one hand how many owners he had revealed himself to like this. Most of them were simply interested in him as an enchanted sword.

Yukimura stepped closer as the man slept. The scabbard lay across the man's lap as he rested against a tree, in easy reach in case of sudden attack. He noticed how his hand rested where the hilt would be and that made him smile a bit. This man was no fool.

He took his time looking at the man's face first. A strong jawline, dark hair, a large build... Yukimura's gaze travelled down to take in the way his hands were relaxed in sleep and then back up to his face that was creased slightly, as though deep in thought, even in his dreams.

He purposely kicked a small rock on the ground, making noise, waiting to see what would happen, and he wasn't disappointed. The man woke up immediately and Yukimura smiled as he stood up to face him and reached for his sword and found only an empty scabbard.

"You won't find it there," Yukimura said, smiling at him still. This man seemed... most interesting for a reason he couldn't quite pin down. It had been a long time since he'd had an owner that interested him like this.

"Who are you?" Their voice was deep and husky from sleep, but there was an alertness and wariness in his gaze, despite having just woken up.

"My name's Yukimura," he said, taking a few steps closer and closing the distance between them. He couldn't be harmed by a mortal, he had no fear. "Would you believe me if I said I was your sword?"

He expected laughter, perhaps a question if he was crazy; he'd met some people who had sickness in the mind before, but instead he got a long stare, followed by a nod.

"You should stay in your sword shape at night," they said, settling down to presumably go back to sleep. "Often people attack at night and I don't want to find the scabbard empty again."

Yukimura stared at him wordlessly, not really sure how to respond to that. That... definitely wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting.

He remembered vividly the many different reactions he'd gotten over the years. Shock, horror, the fond memories of quite a few believing they were dreaming, the sad remembrance of one man who was convinced Yukimura was the ghost of an old friend, come to kill him and who had killed himself first... certainly there had never been the blunt acceptance and... nonchalance of this man.

Yukimura crouched down on the ground and stared him, listening to his breathing and looking at his face. While the breathing was slow and deep and the man's eyes were shut, something was telling him that he was still awake, very much aware of what was going on around him and keeping an ear on what Yukimura was doing.

They spent the long night like that, and it was only when dawn arrived that Yukimura turned back into his sword form and let the man get some sleep.

–

It wouldn't have surprised him if he'd woken up the next day to find himself just left in the dirt, but there was the steady feeling of the man walking as usual, at a slow pace as though he was tired; which he most likely was. Neither of them said anything and there was no singing or whistling that some of his previous owners had done while travelling. Even when they passed a cart piled high with fabrics on its way to the next village, his owner only grunted in greeting at the cart owner.

He confused and intrigued Yukimura.

It was high noon when Yukimura finally spoke, reappearing in his human form and falling into step next to him. He got a glance in his direction, but nothing much else.

"Most people would be curious if they came across me," Yukimura said. Being ignored like this wasn't something that sat so well with him.

"As long as you are a sword when I need one, that's all that matters."

Yukimura narrowed his eyes and considered him. "So you didn't know about me when you stole me from my previous owner." A fact, not a question.

"My previous sword was broken by you," they said, staring ahead and not even looking at him. "I needed a new one and you were there."

That was a surprise. How long had it been since there had been such an innocent acquisition of him? Certainly not for many, many years.

"I'm able to enhance my owner's swordsmanship to the point where they can rival even the greatest masters with no training," Yukimura said, a small note of pride in his voice. "Doesn't that interest you?"

To that he got no answer but he saw the speculative look in the man's eye and he got a slightly longer than before glance in his direction. Yukimura smiled.

"In any case, if you're interested... we'll have to form a bond. And you'll have to give me a good reason why I should help you." He didn't really know why he added that last bit, he'd never expected it of his previous owners.

There was nothing but rather infuriating silence. He could see the question in his eyes, almost imagine exactly what it was he was going to ask... but there was nothing. They walked in silence for a little longer before Yukimura finally got impatient and answered the unspoken question.

"Take some time to think about it. If you decide you want to try, you can start by telling me your name."

And with that, he vanished, finding himself settled once again rather comfortably in the scabbard.

\--

It was well into the night before the man said anything to him. Yukimura could feel his hands resting on the scabbard, laying it across his lap as he leaned against another tree, staring into the darkness.

"My name's Sanada Genichirou," they said and Yukimura said nothing. "I don't need your help."

–

They walked only part of the morning the next day and Sanada stopped for an unexpected meal in the middle of the day by the side of the path. Yukimura frowned slightly and appeared in front of him.

"If you're going to take that form in the day, you can walk," Sanada said, barely glancing up from his simple meal as Yukimura crouched down in front of him.

Yukimura ignored his words in favour of staring closely at his face. "Why don't you want my help? Isn't reaching the level of a master what every swordsman strives for?"

Sanada finally looked at him properly and Yukimura took a moment to notice the black colour of his eyes and the way his eyebrows drew together in a very deep frown.

"Yes."

"I can help you get there."

There was a silence between them and Sanada looked down at his food instead of at Yukimura, something which made him frustrated and wanted to say something, just to make the other man look at him. Eventually though, Sanada did look up, his jaw set and a rather appealing determination in his gaze.

"As long as you're a sword when I need one, that's all the help I need."

There was no over-confidence that Yukimura had heard far too often before; in which previous owners thought they were invincible, that they could do anything... rather, Sanada's determination and words seemed to be rooted in him wanting to achieve the goal in his own power, rather than by obtaining the help from someone else.

Yukimura gave him a long appraising look before he shrugged and sat down on the ground to watch Sanada eat in silence.

\--

As they stopped at the next town and Sanada made to buy himself a meal, there was a pause between them. Yukimura stood silently next to him, staring at the choices on offer.

"Do you have to eat?" Sanada asked him suddenly, something that took Yukimura by surprise. He'd... oddly never been asked such a thing and he blinked at Sanada.

"No I don't..."

Sanada seemed to hear Yukimura's unspoken words though and he held his stare. "Do you want to eat?"

Yukimura smiled at him and tilted his chin back to look him squarely in the eye. "Yes, I think I would."

There was a silent moment of understanding that passed between them and Sanada nodded before turning to order the food. He ordered two servings. Even though the appearance of the food didn't really appeal much to Yukimura, as he grasped the bowl and felt the warmth of the food reach his hands, it really didn't matter.

–

They were attacked just a day out from leaving the village. Sanada had catered to Yukimura's desire to eat without saying anything. And although he had seen Sanada eat the same thing multiple days in a row, he noticed a distinct variety in the food he was served and the ones that Sanada had seemingly chosen to eaten of late.

They were halfway through a meal when people came across them. He knew that Sanada's manner was very abrupt and caused quite a bit of offence, and he could see the confrontation coming. He frowned at them and without Sanada saying anything, he turned back into his sword form, flowing into Sanada's hand before solidifying.

He watched, detached as Sanada fought, watching the skill he'd never observed before, feeling through the weak bond between them, his strange joy as he swung the sword through the air and Yukimura laughed, the unworldly metallic laughter of a sword making the other men pause. Sanada took no notice of it.

It was over almost too fast and Sanada made no real time in hesitating once they were gone; packing up his possessions and starting to walk away from the scene as the other men remained lying on the ground.

Yukimura waited silently, thinking, letting Sanada walk by himself until that night. It was only then that he reappeared, staring critically down at Sanada as he sat down.

"I've decided," Yukimura said, noticing how Sanada glanced up at him, the way his eyebrows drew together a question all in itself. "There's no need to even try and help you with my power. Your technique is terrible, it wouldn't do any good."

He expected some sort of reaction; perhaps an angry defence or a prideful boasting of his skills followed by a demonstration of just how good he was. Yukimura wasn't prepared for the uninterested shrug and Sanada turning his gaze away.

"That's fine." He could see Sanada breathe in deeply and then exhale. "I'll train harder and improve."

Yukimura scoffed and sat down, stretching his legs out before bringing them in towards his chest, resting his chin on his knees. "You could train for a hundred lifetimes and still never reach the level of a master."

He had some savage pleasure at the way Sanada's eyes narrowed slightly, probably the closest he'd ever get to making the man flinch at his words.

"Then I will train for a hundred and one, if need be."

To that, Yukimura really didn't have much of a reply.

–

Sanada had taken a sword from another man a few days ago and started training with it as Yukimura watched. He usually remained silent, not really all that interested in just training against shadows rather than proper fighting. But even the small skirmished Sanada got himself into couldn't compare to the mighty battles Yukimura had experienced.

And part of him was rather glad for it.

The next time Sanada trained, Yukimura looked at the other sword critically. It wasn't a bad sword per se, but it was heavier, not as nicely made as his own sword-form was, but perhaps that was just some sense of pride. Besides, it wasn't like it mattered how he thought, the other sword was lifeless with no personality of its own, and Sanada wielded it well enough.

"Relax your grip slightly, keep your knees bent," Yukimura snapped suddenly, watching with some satisfaction as Sanada adjusted as he was told.

He lapsed into silence as the training went on, resting his chin on his knees as he stared at Sanada, not really seeing his actions as much as he was interested in just watching the man move.

Sanada finally stopped and it caught Yukimura by surprise as he spoke, sliding the sword back into its sheath. "You didn't comment at the end."

Yukimura sniffed dismissively and shrugged, turning away. It was embarrassing to know that Sanada had noticed - not like it was hard to miss, but he ignored that. "It wouldn't have made any difference, you still have a long way to go."

Sanada stared at him for a moment before nodding and starting to get a meal together for them. He passed Yukimura a bowl of food and Yukimura sniffed it suspiciously before setting it down on his lap.

It was odd sitting in the middle of the day with someone he supposed he should define as his "owner" at this point... sharing a meal together. A strange novel experience that no matter how many times it happened with Sanada, Yukimura would never quite come to see as normal.

Today's meal didn't seem to be normal though, since instead of eating in silence as they normally did, with nothing but the sounds of their surroundings to listen to, Sanada actually spoke.

"What exactly are you?"

Yukimura raised his eyebrows and drummed his fingers against the side of his bowl. "I'm a sword, I've told you this already, haven't I?"

Sanada's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded his head. "You have an intimate knowledge of swordsmanship, your shape as a sword is different to everything else I've seen... and..." he gestured at Yukimura, which was really saying enough. "How do you exist?"

"I was forged by someone, I don't know who." A very vague answer that Yukimura paused over, long enough to see the frustration at his answer in Sanada's expression, which just made him smile. "I assume it was a great sword master and he put part of his soul inside of me in the making." Yukimura shrugged, almost like he didn't care, never mind that he'd spent a few years before trying to find the answer. It didn't really matter now.

"So... your human form could be the form of the original maker?"

"I don't know. I went through many owners before I could talk... and then many more before I could take this form."

He could see the question in Sanada's eyes and his smile turned a little feral. The man wanted to know exactly what 'went through' meant. They all did, when he revealed it to them. And it never really changed the outcome either.

"I take away their life force, and they strengthen me as they die... all in exchange for the abilities of a sword master. Even though they knew the price, they all still wanted it."

Yukimura's smile widened. "What about you, Sanada?"

Sanada just stared at him, impassive. "I said I didn't need your help. And we never made a deal."

Yukimura's expression softened slightly and he curled his lip up, looking away. He picked up his bowl again from his lap and started eating. "That's right, we didn't."

\--

Sanada never ceased to interest him, really. The man was just so different to everyone else that he met that Yukimura wasn't really sure how to approach it. First being offered meals and then the continuing feeding of meals even though he knew he added a drain to Sanada's frugal resources, and then being made to walk as a human instead of carried as a sword. Sanada didn't complain if Yukimura chose to spend the day as a sword, but for some reason, even though it made him feel a strange, human ache in his body after, he wanted to walk beside the other man.

But nothing surprised him more than when they stopped, for once, at an inn for the night. He supposed even sometimes Sanada wished for the comforts of towns, even though he seemed to have no problems with sleeping on the hard grounds of their travels. But still his mouth opened slightly as he heard Sanada ask for _two_ rooms and Yukimura clenched his hands in the sides of his clothes, not really sure what to say.

It was almost as if...

They didn't really speak that much through their small evening meal and after, Sanada went straight to bed, leaving Yukimura alone in a room, something that was very new and very strange to him. The room itself was still humble and the bed was barely softer than the ground... but still, it was a room of his own for the first time.

Yukimura sat in pensive silence for a long while before he finally stood up from the bed, moving over to the sliding door that connected their rooms. He slid it open, silently, but he wasn't surprised when Sanada was sitting up, almost as if he was waiting for him.

"Why are you so different?" Yukimura asked, tilting his head to the side and watching Sanada. It wasn't the question he really wanted to ask, but it had come out anyway.

Sanada shrugged. "I'm not different to anyone else."

Yukimura didn't move from where he was standing in the doorway and he stared across the room at the other man. "All my previous owners, even after I was able to take this form, all treated me still like I was a sword and only spoke to me because it would make the bond stronger. But you..."

"What sort of people were your past owners?" There was a strange tone to his voice and Yukimura paused slightly before he answered.

"All different sorts. Government officials, travellers, soldiers, farmers... but they were all the same, really."

Except for perhaps the foggy memories of his very first master, but Yukimura couldn't quite remember anything of him.

"You treat me like I'm a human. Why?"

Sanada laid down on his bed and rolled over, presenting his back to Yukimura. "You're always in that form when you're with me. So I treat you as you choose to appear."

Yukimura blinked at the response and he got the very strong feeling that Sanada meant that as the end of the discussion. The other man seemed... almost uncomfortable about it, as though he was suddenly just realising that to Yukimura, his actions were really quite strange.

"Goodnight Sanada."

Somehow he thought that both of them had a lot to think about tonight.

\--

"I'm never making you a master swordsman," Yukimura said, walking next to Sanada.

Sanada glanced at him and then looked away. "That's fine."

–

Days turned into weeks and into months as they travelled together. Often he asked Sanada where they were going, but Sanada didn't have an answer for him. The other man just seemed to want to continue travelling, continuing to train by himself. In some ways, Yukimura could understand him. It was exciting, seeing the new places, the new sights and sometimes revising old ones that he hadn't seen for many, many years. And the _freedom_...

The silences of their walking had changed into Yukimura sometimes retelling stories of historical events he'd witnessed, battles he'd been involved in, previous owners that he remembered with some vague fondness, if only for the more obscure of their personal habits or appearances. And in return, Sanada offered some of his own tales, which Yukimura relished in hearing, no matter how simple Sanada may have thought them to be.

Yukimura wondered if he'd had a companion before Yukimura had arrived? He remembered very clearly how independent Sanada had been when they'd first met, but now... it almost seemed like he couldn't imagine the man without himself being in the picture as well. 

He accepted his meal for the morning and looked across at Sanada, staring at his face that by now he knew all so well.

"There is a dance I used to see often," Yukimura said, starting to eat, "when my owners would go to entertainment houses. The dancer would dance and then at the end, point her sword at someone, and their reaction would say much about their person."

The ones that didn't flinch were very brave, and those that blocked the attack were great swordsmen. Yukimura looked pensively at Sanada and he knew very well what sort of reaction the man would have had to something like that.

"What were your owners' reactions to that?"

Yukimura laughed. "Some of them paid to have it pointed at them, so that they could react the way they wanted. One man wet himself. I'd like to see it again... the dance, that is."

Sanada grunted and despite the lack of any real reaction, Yukimura could sense his amusement. "I'd like to see it too."

They finished their meal and started walking again, Yukimura walking slightly ahead of Sanada. It was a warm day, but Yukimura had no real feeling the effects of the heat beyond the warmth of the sun on his face. He glanced at Sanada and wondered how often had he been affected by the heat and never said anything on their travels.

"You're very slow at walking," Yukimura said, raising his eyebrows at Sanada. "No wonder your endurance at training and in battles is so weak."

\--

Yukimura wasn't sure what happened, really. One moment they were walking together and he remembered passing some quip about the man they'd met in the previous village and the way his smile reminded him of one of the government officials from generations ago. And the next moment, he was a sword, being held in Sanada's hand.

This person however, wasn't just some common traveller, unskilled and easily cut down. Sanada grunted as he parried a blow and Yukimura couldn't help but admire his skills even now.

How detached and cruel was it of him, to be analysing Sanada's battle technique as he fought?

He watched, as though he was an observer from the outside, staring from the sidelines as the two men battled. And perhaps, that's what he truly was; and outsider and someone... something separate and different from the two men before him, regardless of what sweet words Sanada may have said to him.

Yukimura became aware of Sanada's injuries as they happened, somehow feeling the pain and the weakness that came with it and he found himself shouting at Sanada, not really caring whether or not the other man heard it.

"You idiot," he said, "why are you picking fights with men you couldn't defeat? Why didn't you train harder?"

He didn't even know if Sanada was listening to him, if the man had gone deaf to the outside in the battle, even though Yukimura had told him constantly, over and over again to remain aware of his surroundings of all times.

Why hadn't he helped Sanada get better?

He could feel it, through the strange connection between them, Sanada's strength fading as he struggled to repel more blows.

Why didn't he help Sanada get better now?

Yukimura could hear, almost as if it was his own, Sanada's ragged breathing and he suddenly hated himself for his own selfishness and for letting it get to this situation.

Where if he helped Sanada now, the man would most likely die from the energy it would take... and even if he didn't help, he would die anyway. What would Sanada want to happen? Surely he wouldn't want Yukimura's help, he'd always said as such. But to let him die in such a disgraceful manner, that he hated even more.

"Sanada."

There was no response from the man and Yukimura made the decision on his own. He suddenly opened up their connection and his power, more than he expected, flowed into Sanada. It was stronger than it had ever been and he regrettably, belatedly realised it was because he'd taken the time to get to know this owner... and this owner had gotten to know him as well.

Already Sanada's skills increased and Yukimura felt even more detached as he felt the dimming of Sanada's life force. But he cut down the other man almost effortlessly and Yukimura felt some terrible pride at that.

He would have made an excellent sword master.

Time seemed to slow as Sanada staggered over to a tree, collapsing onto the ground and leaning against the tree, his breathing shallow. Yukimura appeared before him and stared down at him, a troubled expression on his face.

Sanada stared up at him, as unreadable as ever and he made some funny sounding exhalation, almost as if he was laughing.

"You finally found me worthy to share you power with." Sanada had realised it too, it seemed and Yukimura pressed his lips tightly together, forcing himself to keep staring at him.

"Not like it did much good in the end. You still failed." He tried, so hard, to sound haughty, but there was the bitterness and the slight catch in his voice that he knew Sanada picked up on. There was a look of sudden understanding in Sanada's eyes that Yukimura tried to ignore.

"What are you going to do now?"

Even as he was dying, Sanada thought about _him_ and Yukimura hated him for it.

"Probably wait for another owner... I don't know if I can remain in this form if I don't have one." 

The idea of staying at the edge of a rarely travelled road next to Sanada while he waited for someone to find him was embittering and he looked away. Sanada just looked at him more, and Yukimura could see his gaze becoming unfocused and he wondered how much longer he had left.

Sanada reached up and grasped his hand suddenly, the grip tighter than Yukimura had expected. "I hope you get to keep travelling," Sanada said and Yukimura frowned at him. He wasn't sure whether Sanada was referring to travelling by himself, or getting a new master that had the same desire to travel as Sanada did.

Silence fell between them and Yukimura sat down on the ground, watching as Sanada's life force slowly dimmed into nothingness and felt the slackening of his grip on his hand. There was no feeling of being forced back into his sword-form, and for that, Yukimura was eternally grateful.

He squeezed Sanada's unresponsive hand and pressed his face into his knees as he wept. He was such a fool.


End file.
